Chapter 2 – Part 8 

Although she said so, Ronae put down her spoon as soon as she picked it up. In the final month, the baby inside should be hungry, so she too should feel hungry.

Yet, strangely, she couldn’t swallow the food. Ronae’s gaze drifted to the clock on the table.

Tick-tock.

It was past 10 o’clock, and the person who was supposed to come hadn’t arrived. She knew she had to keep waiting.

“This is all because of the young lady.”

It was the day Gael, who had reported her to the imperial palace, gave up on that and came to her. He vented his resentment, demanding she find a solution quickly.

Ronae had said she didn’t know. She truly didn’t. She hadn’t thought of a way to undo it. She had braced herself for Gael’s resentment, ready to accept those feelings.

Or so she thought.

Ronae told the maid to bring her some tea. The maid, as if used to it, left the room, but Ronae didn’t miss the momentary look of pity in her eyes.

Gael had searched everywhere for a way to break the magic but never found one. He kept Ronae by his side out of a mix of love and hate, unable to forget his first love.

‘Olivia.’

Many said she had changed. Ronae wondered if Olivia still shone brilliantly. People said she was weak and stupid, but Ronae thought differently. The sharp gaze that surveyed her surroundings was that of a predator. She was merely hiding her true nature.

“Sigh…”

Ronae sighed as she stroked her belly. Inside was her and Gael’s child. She remembered Gael’s reaction when he found out she was pregnant.

“Don’t be conceited just because you’re carrying my child. I don’t consider you my true fiancée.”

“Don’t come near me. You disgust me.”

Gael was probably still searching for a way to break the magic. He loved her but resented her, testing her in various ways.

Like today. He said he’d come to the baron’s residence, only to arrive later than promised. When she was drowsy or asleep, he would scold her for not being able to wait after tainting her heart.

“I couldn’t bear being ignored by you!”

She vividly remembered her own voice crying out in desperation. Ronae smiled bitterly. It was true. She couldn’t bear Gael’s disregard.

She couldn’t stand watching him look at her with eyes full of love for another woman. That’s why Ronae did the most foolish thing in the world.

But still, Ronae loved Gael. She…

“You must love me forever. That’s your punishment.”

“Don’t worry. I still love you now.”

“Baby, just be born healthy. Then…”

Ronae tenderly stroked her belly again.

“I love you, Gael.”

“I’ll help you escape your horrible father.”

Tears fell from Ronae’s eyes.

Ronae surely loved Gael. Or rather, she had loved him.

“Ronae, listen to me carefully. Gael… is trying to break the magic… You must believe me…”

Had it not been for the truth that woman presented,

Ronae buried her face in her hands. The fragmented, painful memories were hard to recall, but she couldn’t ignore the truth.

Ronae had to hate Gael.

She needed to escape from him.

* * *

Olivia rolled around on the bed. Indeed, the beds in romance novels were nice. The king-size bed and the fabric felt heavenly compared to the shabby bed she used in the modern world.

In fact, she didn’t want to rest like this. She had more studying to do, work to handle, and training to continue. She had a lot to do since she had just arrived in this world.

“You will harm yourself greatly if you continue like this, Marchioness.”

However, a junior knight had stopped her on her way to work in the study. Whether it was because he was impressed by her breaking Harry Palmer’s leg or simply worried, Olivia decided to heed his advice. She was indeed feeling exhausted from dealing with Harry Palmer.

***

Acting like she wasn’t nervous was one thing, but saying she wasn’t tense would be a lie. The man standing there was a notable vassal of a distinguished noble family, their leader no less. Olivia recognized him as Harry Palmer even without him being in the center of attention.

‘Bastard.’

How much had he flaunted his power? Olivia wanted to smash Harry Palmer’s head and bury it in the mountains, but she restrained herself. If she did, she’d be the first to land in the prison she created.

So Olivia asked Marsden for a favor. To find a few people. Necessary individuals to take over the Charbert family, as if it were a game of Bruges X-Ball.

“Don’t you need a gold mine, Buddy? Diamonds? An empire or kingdom? Is there no land you desire?”

What kind of duke was he? Olivia’s thoughts wandered back to Troy Marsden. She had come to terms with the fact that she couldn’t get him out of her head.

Why was that? Because he confessed his love? Or because he confessed his sins like a penitent? Because he seemed ready to give her everything?

“I searched every room. The only one that was locked… when I broke in, the entire room was covered in blood… that’s all.”

Or was it because she saw him trembling in fear, like a child, afraid of losing something again?

‘Come to think of it, I haven’t been to the crime scene yet.’

With everything happening so fast, she hadn’t thought to visit the murder scene. It was 11 o’clock at night, the perfect time to sneak in and check without leaving a trace.

‘Maybe the real Olivia Charbert’s memories will come back.’

Yes, this body belonged to the real ‘Olivia Charbert’. Her memories must be buried somewhere in her brain.

Olivia got up lightly and put on a coat. She then snuck out of the room, careful not to make a sound. Knights were stationed here and there, but Olivia skillfully evaded them and left the main building.

‘Idiots. How could none of them notice?’

Shaking her head, Olivia headed toward the eastern annex. Not a single person detected her presence, deepening her anger.

She vowed to deal with them later as she slipped through a window into the eastern annex. The interior, avoided by everyone due to its ominous atmosphere, was full of mold.

She thought it wouldn’t affect her, but she felt strange. Olivia walked towards the room where the incident had occurred.

Creak… creak…

The floorboards let out an unpleasant noise, as if warning each other of an intruder.

Feeling inexplicably uneasy, Olivia continued down the hallway.

‘It’s okay; there’s nothing here.’

Reassuring herself, she soon found herself in front of the room. She grasped the doorknob. The cold metal sent a chill through her palm.

Olivia turned the knob, not daring to imagine what lay beyond.

* * *

Marsden was drenched in cold sweat. He twisted his body as if trying to escape, but he couldn’t open his eyes.

Despite wanting to escape, he couldn’t.

This nightmare was always the same. Like a factory producing identical paintings, the background never changed, yet Marsden felt the same horrific fear every time.

“Buddy! Buddy!”

Hoping this time would be different, Marsden ran. Praying his intuition was wrong, he burst through the door.

The maid said she had gone to the east wing. But she said not to go there unless it was urgent. The place was considered cursed due to an ancestor who had gone mad and hanged himself after the war. The annex remained because it was part of the Charbert estate.

Just a few seconds after opening the door. Marsden felt those moments stretch into eternity. In that brief span, he entertained countless scenarios, denying the scene before him.

A hallucination created by a ghost, or perhaps he had gone mad, or maybe it was someone else…

“Ugh…”

“Bu…ddy…”

The real Marsden groaned as the dream Marsden kneeled before a pool of blood.

His fine suit trousers were soaked in blood. Marsden reached out to the fallen woman, brushing aside the hair covering her face. The face was…

“…!”

Marsden shot up as if struck by a spasm. His stomach churned, and he couldn’t breathe. Scratching his chest, his hands wrapped in bandages.

“Ugh…”

Marsden bit his lip and covered his mouth. After a nightmare, he always hyperventilated, so this was his routine upon waking.

If this didn’t help, Marsden would pull out the cloth pouch he kept under his pillow. This time, too, he took the pouch and brought it to his mouth. It expanded and contracted as he breathed.

Blood seeped from the hand clutching the cloth. When Marsden slightly opened his hand, the bandage had come loose.

‘My flesh is torn again.’

It was a familiar occurrence. Marsden examined the wounds. Deep cuts, as if made deliberately, covered his hands and arms. But surprisingly, this was nobody’s doing.

‘At least it doesn’t affect Buddy.’

Six months ago, Marsden had made a choice and was paying the price. The curse tore at his flesh whenever it could, forcing Marsden to take strong painkillers to sleep.

“Even painkillers can’t overcome this nightmare.”